Amour [h.s]

☼ seventeen ☼

"I'm not okay, I feel so scattered, don't say I'm all that matters"

☼ ☼ ☼

Trigger warning: mentions/memories of sexual assault and panic attacks

Amelie

Milo was settling into the tour life, he was over his sickness and seemed to be loving his time spent with Ollie. He thought it was hilarious every time Ollie opened his mouth to call out for his mama.

Harry has caught onto what makes Milo the happiest, and now he's always talking to him in a silly voice, tickling his toes, pretending to eat his hands. Milo adores Harry. Sometimes when I'm holding him, he'll reach out to be held by Harry.

It's a slight stab to the heart, but I'm then filled with warmth when I remind myself that he's happy, for once in his life. He's so happy.

I don't think I've ever heard him giggle so much.

I wake up to the beautiful sounds of baby giggles, and my day is filled with them, right until the moment I step onto that stage. And the laughter is all thanks to Harry.

I don't know what I'd do without him. Despite my initial denial that I'm in need of any help, I eventually gave in and accepted that touring with a now six month old baby, is no mean feet.

Harry's stopped spending time in hotels, and started taking responsibility for Milo, despite him being my child. He says it because he wants to look out for us and make sure we're safe, but I know it's more than that.

Milo's become a lot more of a handful now he's hit six months old. We're yet to try him on solid foods, though he's eating a lot more, his thighs have developed the chunkiest of rolls, he's babbling a lot more, and getting his hands on anything he can find.

It'll only be a matter of time before he finds his feet and I'll be chasing after him.

"Min kjærlighet" Harry mumbles out, placing an innocent kiss onto my lips. That's something he's been doing quite often. Stealing little kisses wherever he can.

One day someone will catch us. And it won't be pretty.

"Let me take a guess what that means" I laugh, turning around to face him.

He's been doing this thing, in every country we visit, I wasn't sure of what he was doing until I googled it.

He refuses to admit it, but he's been calling me my love, in whichever language of the country we're in.

We had just finished playing in Norway, so today's little phrase was in Norwegian.

The L word terrified me, especially since, I've learnt that I never really loved Leo. Maybe for the first few years, not after that, it wasn't love. It's left my judgment of love, pretty clouded.